


more than you will ever know

by thewayofthemandalorian



Series: Season 2 oneshots [7]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jealous Din Djarin, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Sex, Possessive Din Djarin, Self-Doubt, Shy Din Djarin, Spoilers, favreau forgive me, minor miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayofthemandalorian/pseuds/thewayofthemandalorian
Summary: When an old contact is recruited to help you and Din hunt down Moff Gideon, he makes remarks neither you nor Din like. Din rectifies the situation.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Series: Season 2 oneshots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044465
Comments: 2
Kudos: 211





	more than you will ever know

**Author's Note:**

> Mild spoilers for episode 2.07 "Chapter 15: The Believer." 
> 
> So as soon as a certain character was confirmed to be returning in episode 2.07 “Chapter 15: The Believer” last week, my mind had fully formed this idea. As such, it has very little to do with the actual episode. All the same, if you don’t want to know a few plot details for this week’s episode, maybe wait until you’ve seen it. 
> 
> Warnings: Non-descriptive/vaguely described scenes of sex, jealous Din Djarin, ever-so-slightly possessive Din Djarin, self-doubt, minor miscommunication (Din Djarin is shy and not good with words) mild season 2 spoilers (returning character, the child’s name)
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

“Well, will ya look at this? Mando’s got himself a little girlfriend.”

It hadn’t even been a full hour that former Imperial sharp-shooter and convicted criminal Migs Mayfeld had been on Boba Fett’s ship and you had already gone from being intimidated by him to being annoyed by him.

You didn’t like the idea, but you couldn’t disagree with Din on this. You knew that someone who was familiar with ships that the Empire used would be your best option in getting Grogu back from the clutches of Moff Gideon. And Mayfeld was the only person that Mando knew that could navigate the Imperial Cruisers.

Mayfeld sat back in the seat he was cuffed to, clearly enjoying the sight in front of him - you flustered and annoyed, Mando silently raging. “I can’t wait for Xi’an to hear about this. And I thought she was heartbroken _before_ this little … development.” Mayfeld smirked smugly.

Din said nothing. Just stared at Mayfeld with a blank expression. You knew him well enough when he had his buttons pushed. And right now Mayfeld was pushing all of them at once.

“You don’t get to talk to her,” said Mando evenly. Quietly.

Mayfeld raised an eyebrow in your direction. “Shouldn’t she be the judge of that? Or are you the type that makes all her decisons for her?”

The two men glanced at you expectantly. “You make me uncomfortable,” you whispered to Mayfeld.

The former Imperial sharp-shooter just clucked his tongue at you. “That doesn’t sound very convincing, sweetheart.”

Beside you, the Mandalorian clenched his fist. “You heard her. You make her uncomfortable. So _leave her alone_.”

Something fluttered inside you at this display of protection, his assuredness. It was something that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You and Din Djarin hadn’t known each other for very long when he invited you to join his crew after his first face-off against Moff Gideon back on Nevarro, having met once or twice before then, a good rapport between the two of you already existing. He had picked you up on Corellia not long afterwards, shortly before his search for other Mandalorians began, claiming that he needed an extra pair of hands on the _Razor Crest_. If you had to guess, it had been about seven months since then.

It wasn’t too long after the events with the krayt dragon on Tatooine that you had found yourself in his sleeping chamber with him, the room pitch dark. You were blindfolded for good measure, but all the same, it had happened. Mando had been careful, gentle in his movements. Almost like he was afraid of breaking you. But that hadn’t stopped him from being passionate all the same.

Against your better judgement, knowing of his creed, his method of living, you had fallen for him, long before this first night sharing his company, his bed. It became a regular occurence, his bed becoming your shared bed.

Originally, you assumed it naïve to think that he reciprocated your feelings in any capacity; what you had was merely physical, or so you had told yourself. But now? Now, you weren’t so sure of that.

The seed of doubt that this was purely physical had been planted when he had told you his name one night, shortly before Grogu had been taken, when you had departed from Corvus after that fateful meeting with Ahsoka Tano. You didn’t know who knew less about the ways of the Jedi, Din or you.

Until that moment, when you were lying in his arms, you had called him nothing but Mando or nothing at all. “Din,” he had whispered, so quiet you had to strain to hear him.

“What?” you had replied.

The Mandalorian whispered it again in your ear, almost shy as if you would reject his name, reject _him_. “Din. My name is Din Djarin.”

You had been speechless. Up until now, you were sure that you would never know his name. You were fine not knowing his name. Sure, you had wondered what it was, but it was not your place to ask it if he didn’t want to give it freely.

“Why are you telling me?”

Din hadn’t answered you. Instead he had kissed you softly. Tenderly.

You hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but looking back now, you wondered if you had been wrong in your assumptions of this being just a physical relationship for him.

It wasn’t until recently that you realized that he showed you his true self long before he had shown it to anyone else. The self that was hidden away by layers of beskar, forced to be replaced by a man that was silently stoic.

* * *

“Come on, sweetheart.” Mayfeld’s voice interrupted your reverie. It was so easy to let your mind wander these days, since Grogu had been taken from you and Din.

The small creature had found his way to your heart almost instantly. You loved him, cared for him as a mother would a son. It had been your responsibility to watch over him while he was on the Jedi seeing stone. You had failed, unable to overpower the dark troopers that had been sent in to take him.

Though he had told you otherwise many times, you still wondered if a small part of Din blamed you at all for Grogu’s abduction. You knew that you blamed yourself for it.

You shot a glare at Mayfeld at the same time that Din’s helmet turned to glance in his direction. “ _What_?” You were getting annoyed.

Mayfeld chuckled to himself. “What’s the appeal of Mando? I never got it on our last mission together. You seem like you can do a lot better than hanging around with him.” The implication was not lost on you or Din.

Before you could say anything, Din had moved from his seat into your field of vision. “Can I speak with you in private in the sleeping compartment?” His voice was huskier than usual through the modulator.

Baffled by this, you said, “O-okay.” Fennec and Boba Fett had left you and Din alone to get provisions and find any possible leads on where Moff Gideon’s ship was. Din had insisted that someone keep an eye on Mayfeld at all times.

“Don’t touch anything,” Din warned Mayfeld as he ushered you into the sleeping compartment that the two of you shared. It was slightly less cramped than the one on the _Razor Crest_ had been, but it was less homey than the _Crest_ had been. You missed it.

Don’t be mistaken, you were grateful for Fett’s ship, but you yearned for the domesticity that had accidentally (purposefully?) grown between you, Din, and Grogu on the _Crest._

You missed what Mayfeld had to say in response, probably some wise-ass comment or remark. You knew he wasn’t going anywhere, not chained to the seat.

“Din, what’s wrong? What is it -?”

The rest of your words were cut off by the room being plunged into darkness, his helmet being torn off, and his lips crashing to yours all in the manner of fifteen seconds.

A moan slipped out unbidden as he continued to kiss you languidly, his mouth roaming your neck, biting and sucking on your pulse point, crowding you against the wall. You were so used to tentative, soft Din, who was so careful with his movements with you. This was a far cry from that Din. It was something that you found yourself enjoying, though.

You were confused but not complaining in the slightest. Din pulled back from you for a moment, chuckling at your whine for him to continue. Very haphazardly he yanked his chest plate off, followed by his pauldrons, throwing them to the floor with a loud crash. The knee covers were next before he gathered you in his arms again, pressing his lips to your neck, your jaw.

“Din.” The word came out half chiding, half moaning. “We need to be quiet. Mayfeld will hear us.”

Din pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, his voice husky and ragged with want when he pulled back. “Yeah? Good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, which was swallowed by another one of Din’s consuming kisses that you had come to love. You weren’t sure where this was coming from, but you couldn’t complain. There was nothing to complain about.

He ripped your tunic from you, taking his time with your trousers, pressing kisses down your exposed body, leaving marks in the wake of his lips and teeth. “Don’t hold back _cyare_ ,” he said. “I want to hear you.”

* * *

You moaned out his name again and again, your voice breathless, desperate. "I need - I need -"

Din chuckled against your skin, the sensation reverberating against you doing nothing to alleviate your current situation. "Yes? Use your words, pretty thing. What do you need?"

Your back arched, not for the first time, reveling in the sensations that you were feeling. That he was giving you. You wanted him closer - _needed_ him closer. Always.

“I need you,” you groaned, voice hoarse.

You understood at that moment that you meant that in more than just a physical sense. He seemed to understand that, too. Perhaps he was the same and needed you in return.

Din gave you what you wanted, his growls mixing with your own whines as you fell apart around him, Din not far behind you. “You’re so good to me, _ner kar’ta_ ,” Din ground out as he caught his breath, collapsing against you on the bed.

“And you’re so good to _me_ ,” you replied. You found his lips with yours in the dark, kissing him gently this time.

A moment later, Din spoke hesitantly. “I didn’t hurt you at all, did I? Are you all right?”

Nodding against his chest, affirming that you were great, you rested for a moment in his arms before the question came to you, the one that had been on your mind since he had first ushered you in here.

“What was this all about? Not that I’m complaining, which, I’m not. Not at all. How could I complain after that?”

Din stiffened for a moment, becoming shy and self-conscious. “I-I didn’t - He was bothering you. Implying things that neither you or I liked.” He knew it was immature, but he couldn’t help it. “And I’m not good with words when it comes to things like…”

You stroked his arm reassuringly, not saying anything for a moment. “I didn’t like what he had to say. But you know I’m with you one hundred percent of the way, right?” Your voice was quiet, unsure. “I-I think I’m in love with you.”

Instinctively pulling away from Din after that bombshell, you didn’t have much time to consider your words as he pulled you back closer to him. “Do you know what _ner kar’ta_ means?”

This question threw you for a loop. “N-no. I don’t know what any of the words you say in the languages of Mandalorians means.”

Din sighed, not unhappily. “Then I haven’t been doing what I’ve wanting to do correctly. Like I said, I’m not great with words when it comes to things like this.” He took your hands in his. “ _Cyar’ika_ means darling.” He pressed a kiss to the knuckles of your left hand. “ _Cyare_ means beloved _.”_ A kiss to the knuckles on your right hand. You felt your face grow warm with realization as Din moved his face to yours, his breath tickling against you. “And _ner kar’ta_ means my heart.” A kiss to your lips.

“Oh.” The word was quiet.  
His lips met yours tentatively. You responded immediately, bringing your hand up to wind in his impossibly soft, curly hair that you so often wondered the colour of.

The kiss became heated. Din hummed against yours lips. “I’m yours,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”

You rested your forehead against his, kissing his nose. “I’ll have you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Pressing one more kiss to his cheek, you whispered, “Now let’s go get our boy back.”

Mayfeld had the decency to not look you in the eye when you emerged from the sleeping compartment ten minutes later, hand in hand with Din. When he did speak to you, it was to ask if you needed help or when you spoke directly to him. You hadn’t missed the way Din had dragged him into the cockpit, faintly hearing the muffled words of how this was going to work.

* * *

“Did he behave himself?” asked Fennec, referring to Mayfeld, who was snoring in his seat.

You and Din shared a look. “We’ve come to an … _understanding_ , you could say.”

As you settled against Din for the night, _Slave I_ in hyperdrive in the direction that Moff Gideon’s ship was headed, you thought back to your guilt over your part in Grogu’s abduction.

Din was pensive tonight. Likely thinking about his son, worrying about whatever it was that Moff Gideon was doing to him.

You shifted in his arms. Since this afternoon, he had become less stringent about certain things. Though it might be some time before he could fully reveal his face to you, you no longer needed an over abundance of caution. “Din?”

“Yes, _cyare_?”

Taking a fortifying breath, you spoke. “I’m sorry. That I wasn’t able to stop them. From taking him.”

In the darkness, Din looked at you. “It isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I should have stayed with the two of you. Come back sooner from the firefight.”

You stroked the fabric of his tunic softly. “It’s not your fault, either.”

Din caught your hand in his. “I was meant to protect him. And I didn’t.” His voice sounded ragged.

Squeezing his hand, you said, “You have protected him in so many ways. Loved him. Cared for him. He loves you. And we -” You had to pause for a moment to steady your voice, the threat of tears making their way to the surface causing it to become shaky. “We are going to get him back.”

That made Din pause for a moment. In a movement that stunned you, Din reached over to switch on the light, flooding the chamber in light. Before you could cover your eyes with your hands, he took them in his own hands. “I want you to see, _cyare_. It’s long overdue.”

He was beautiful. But you already suspected that. You reached up to cup his scruffy jaw in your hand. He closed his eyes, brown as his hair, at the sensation. “I love you,” you whispered. “And we’re going to get him back. I promise.”

Din inhaled sharply, fighting back his own emotion for the moment, returning your sentiment of love before becoming unsure. “How can you be so sure that we will get him back?”

Your response was simple as you reached out to stroke his cheek again. “Because he’s ours. And he means more to us than Moff Gideon will ever know.”


End file.
